Tell Me You Love Me
by Meohy
Summary: Through a series of word games and acts of spontaneous kindness, Mello tries to ploy Matt into confessing his undying love for him.
1. Two Letters

**Two Letters**

Summary: Mello tries a weak ploy to get Matt to tell him he loves him.

Mello entered his apartment, arms full of brown paper grocery bags, and called out to his roommate. "Matt, get your lazy ass out here and help me with these damn groceries!"

The redhead came bounding out of their room excitedly. "Wee, food!"

"Yeah, I got all the shit you like," Mello said, dumping the bags onto the counter.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Matt hugged a package of his coveted gummy worms.

"Well, I was thinking you could express your gratitude in more of a phrase that starts with an I and ends with a U…"

Matt thought a moment. "You're right. I owe you."

The mafia boss face-palmed. _No, you dumbass! I meant "I love you." _


	2. Sarcasm and a Gun

**Sarcasm and a Gun**

Summary: Mello tries yet another lame ploy to trick Matt into telling he loves him.

With no lights on expect the faint glow of the television, Matt sat crossed-legged in the center of the floor, engrossed in his video games. Mello, lounging on their tattered couch behind him, watched as he played into the early hours of the next day.

The only sound that filtered through their apartment was that of animated screams and exploding bullets. The silence between the two boys was mutually comfortable, both content with just being the other's company.

As the game paused to load the next level, Mello thoughtfully asked, "Matt, what are two things you couldn't live without?"

"Hmm…games and sleep." Matt replied, all attention still on the flashing TV screen.

"I should have known."

"Why, what are your answers? Sarcasm and a gun?"

Mello smirked. "Good one. But, nah, I couldn't live without chocolate and, well, _you_." The blonde truthfully admitted.

The gamer peered over his shoulder, a mysterious grin spreading across his face. "Pfft, see? You can't even go ten seconds without sarcasm."

Matt turned and resumed his game, while Mello seethed quietly behind him. _Smartass. _


	3. Three Words

**Three words**

Summery: Mello isn't done yet.

Mello had resumed his game of trying to indirectly get Matt to tell him he loved him, and by this time, he was ready for a new approach. _We'll see how a direct display of expressed love works on him! _

"Matt," Mello began, wrapping his arms around the gamer's waist as he came up behind him. "If I told you that you complete me, that I don't know what I'd do without you—if I told you that I truly care about you…how would you respond?"

"I would respond with three little words."

_Yes, victory is mine! Tell me you love me, Matt! _

Matt turned around, and putting a hand to Mello's cheek affectingly, he gazed lovingly into his boyfriend's eyes and said, "Let's. Get. Naked."

_Though I appreciate the suggestion, I don't think that counts. _Mello growled in defeat and stormed away. _You'll profess your love for me one day, Mail Jeevas! _

"What? What'd I say?" Matt, oblivious as ever, called after him.

When the door slammed behind him, Mello paced alone in his room, and began to devise a new plan.


	4. A Thousand Words

**A Thousand Words…And Then Some**

Summary: A picture speaks a thousand words, so will three of those thousand be the ones Mello has been waiting for?

Mello climbed up the dingy stairwell to his apartment, singing Tony Braxton's hit 'Unbreak My Heart' with such a dramatic flare that, if the neighbors had been listening, might've handed out a few nightmares. "_Un-break my heart…say you'll love me again…"_ He began to skip every other stair, gaining momentum as he bounded more quickly to his floor. "_Un-do this hurt that you caused…"_ He continued the song as he jammed his key into the door. _"When you walked_…" A twist of the doorknob and it swung open. "_Out the door and outta my…_What the hell?"

Matt leapt up from the couch, raising his arms defensively. He blushed guilty as he shouted, "I can explain!"

Mello quickly assessed this situation. And, thinking in terms of how he could turn this into another ploy for Matt's declaration of love, factoring in the adorably pleading puppy face Matt was giving him, determined that if he played this right, he just might be able to do it.

Mello expertly threw on a guise of ignorance and irritation. "Okay, genius. Make sense of why there are a ton of crappily drawn pictures taped in random places all over our walls."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you I felt inspired today, would you?"

"No. You have no artistic abilities whatsoever, Matt. Start explaining."

"Hey, that stings! I really do like drawing! Wouldn't it be awesome if I could draw up my very own videogame characters? And, hey, I thought I had something with these pictures over here, see? Don't you like the colors and how I just seemed to blend them all together nicely…"

Mello wandered over to the closest wall, and, sensitive to Matt's attachment to these pictures, ripped them off. As the pages flitted to the dirty hardwood floor, their true purpose was revealed. Mello's voice flared to a dangerous tone, "Bullet holes! What the fuck did you do?"

Matt brought his arms up, like he was preparing to be beaten with a wet towel (which, knowing Mello, if Matt were to be beaten, it'd be done more creatively).

Mello relaxed his stance, arching an eyebrow and putting a hand on his hip, patiently waiting for Matt to spit out his plea.

Wringing his hands, the gamer began, "You see, well, uh…there was this mouse and it was rabid-looking and it was purely _evil_ 'cause it wanted my Poptart but that was the last one so I kinda…sorta…heh heh…tried to kill it…but I used up all the bullets in your gun in the process to shoot its fucking brains out but it got away!" The last part coming out in one rushed, clipped breath, the guilty redhead gasped for air, then exclaimed, "Please don't be mad at me!"

Expecting Mello's wilting glare, Matt whimpered and dove behind the couch for cover. He knew something catastrophic was about to happen. This time he might be able to make it to the fire escape in time…maybe if used a pillow as a shield, dove behind his tower of videogames, regained balance, crawled under the table, then preparing for a final sprint, ran through the kitchen, and dove through the window out into the fire escape…yeah, that could work…

But, wait! Would there be enough time to double back for his half-eaten Poptart? That's what began this whole mess, after all. The delicious taste of Brown Sugar Cinnamon Poptarts was worth dying for!

…Wasn't it?

But Mello did no such thing. Instead, he slowly, calmly, took a deep breath. Flabbergasting Matt, he asked, "What did the landlord have to say?" in a tone that was almost…amused? Maybe not amused, but definitely not pissed off. Which was good. Or…strange.

Slowly, Matt inched upwards to peak over the arm of the couch. His orange-tinted gaze spotted this leather-clad boyfriend from across the room. The everything-but-mellow blonde looked…deep in thought. Planning his death, probably.

"What did the landlord say?" Mello repeated.

Matt blinked, almost forgetting how to form a coherent thought, then quickly blurted, "He was doubtful when I told him the popcorn in our microwave explodes dangerously loud, so I amended that by saying that I was playing Grand Theft Auto with the volume up really high." Then Matt smirked, proud of himself. "He seemed to believe that."

"Hmm," Mello said thoughtfully. "You're smarter than I thought."

Matt knew he was teasing, but ignored the comment anyway for rather meekly inquiring, "So…you're not mad?"

Mello sighed. "No, of course not. Although you're an idiot, you're safe. And that's all that matters." A slow smirk came across his lips. "You can stand up now. I'm not going to kill you."

"Oh, well, I—you can never be too sure!" Matt huffed defensively.

"Actually…" Mello said, climbing onto the couch, the cushion crunching under his boot as he perched on it in a way that would resemble L— with his arms, he wrapped up his knees against his chest. He leaned close to Matt, smirking, and whispered, "Even if I wanted to…I kind of _can't _kill you…because, you see, Matty, you used up all the bullets in my gun." He stroked the redhead's cheek affectionately. "I suppose I could try suffocation, though…"

Matt recoiled, fearful of the sadistic glint in his lover's eyes, still kneeling on the ground beside the couch. "But…but…if you kill me, who will fix the computer after you abuse it? Who will buy you Coco Pebbles and chocolate milk? Who will listen without question to your pissed-off venting? Who will do the laundry, and make sure your leather is cleaned right? Who will make sure there's gas in your motorcycle?" He paused, dropping his gaze, and spoke quieter. "Who else will take care of you if it's not me?"

Mello backed off slightly, a genuine smile brightening up his handsome features. Cobalt eyes shinning, he said, "Then it seems, Matty, that I can't survive without you."

"Yeah." Matt grinned, putting his hands on Mello's. "Same here."

**A/N – My sincerest apologies and gratitude for everyone who has reviewed! I'm so sorry for not responding, but I'm so appreciative that you left them! **

**So, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to: Satan's Sweeties, AkaiTsumi, Mirus Infidus, XxCatalinaxX, Romance with Zero, Darkfire359, DarkAngelJudas, shadow assassin101, and Miss Bright! You guys are amazingly awesome! :D **

**Love, **

**Meohy **

**P.S. Ironically, this story is 1,099 words long. XD**


	5. Yellow Candy

**Yellow Candy**

**A/N – This is the 'Red Candy' EDIT. Darkfire359, Our Lord Kira bless her, noticed that Matt would prefer YELLOW M&Ms over red. Sorry for the mix-up, guys. Thanks again, Darkie :3 **

Summary: Mello, our ever-determined, perpetual runner-up, isn't finished with tricking a declaration of love out of Matt. This time, though, he'll call on the aid of some candy. Will it work?

Returning home from a trip out to the local drug store for cigarettes and chocolate, Matt called out to his roommate/lover when the door closed behind him, "Mello, I'm back!"

No answer.

_Curious, _the gamer thought as his orange-tinted gaze swept over the empty expanse of the apartment.

"Mellooo! I've got Godiva for you…" Matt ventured, hoping this would bate the blonde out of wherever he was hiding.

Not a sound.

Throwing the plastic bag griped in his gloved-hand aside, he cautiously entered the kitchen.

And stopped short.

Sitting in the middle of the kitchen table was a tall, glass vase filled to the brim with only yellow M&M's. Thousand of the yellow candy pieces substituted the volume of this vase, and Matt could only gawk. Had Mello really done this? _Mello? _It was so thoughtful…and they were absolutely Matt's favorite candy. It couldn't be…

As he approached the vase, a goofy, shocked grin brightening his face. He was touched by this act as he recalled earlier in the week when the blonde declared that the next time they'd eat M&M's together, he'd put aside the yellow ones for Matt, but for Mello to actually painstakingly go through a countless packs of M&M's…well, this was the greatest gesture of love the neurotic blonde had ever done.

As if practiced, at this moment Mello joined Matt in the kitchen, hands clasped behind his back, a small smile tugged at his lips. "Do you like it?"

Matt welcomed him to the room with green eyes shining with love and happiness, and a mouth dropped open in shock. Pointing to the vase, he stammered a very intelligent, "I-I…seriously?"

When Matt continued to splutter over words, Mello gave him a look of expectant hope, "Any special three words come to your mind?" He prompted (an overall desperate, obvious way of suggesting a confession of love, but Mello wasn't ever one for really being tactful).

A cheerful grin spreading across the redhead's face, Matt launched himself into Mello's arms. "Yeah—you're the best!"

Mello welcomed his boyfriend into his embrace, but not without the mental slap of, _Fourth face-palm of the week. Terrific._

**A/N – Haha, I cheated and got REALLY cheesy with this one. **

**Mmm…cheese…and thousands of M&Ms…**

**Is anyone else hungry? **


	6. Halloween Candy

**Halloween Candy**

**A/N - 11-1-10: I know it's a day late, and it doesn't really have to do with the theme I've got going, but I wrote a quick Halloween fic and thought it was worth sharing. **

**I wrote it in, like, 5 minutes, and was probably in the waning of a sugar rush, so please forgive any mistakes. **

**On a totally unrelated note, guess what I was the year for Halloween? A gangster/pimp. I know, it was obvious ^^ **

Matt walked through the door, a cigarette between his lips. When he passed Mello, who was hunched over the computer, he tossed a handful of candy bars into the blonde's lap. "Happy Halloween, Mels."

"I knew there was a reason why I loved you," Mello murmured distractedly.

Matt blushed and, taking a drag of his cigarette, fell back into the couch. "Gee, thanks. I mean, it wasn't much, room 1408 left their bowl of candy unattended, so naturally I took it and ran."

Mello's head snapped up and turned in Matt's direction. His gloved fingers withdrew from the keyboard as peered over his shoulder. "Huh? Did you say something?"

"What? Yeah, what were you saying?"

Mello shrugged. "Nothin'. I was just talking to my chocolate bars, tellin' them how much I loved them. Were you saying something?"

"Erm. No." Matt awkwardly butted his cigarette and stood to get something electronic to spend his Halloween night playing. Or maybe he'd scavenge for some cheesy horror film—the Blockbuster down the street ought to be open.

As he grabbed his keys and was about to head out again, though, Mello called out for him. "Hey, Matt?"

"Hmm, yeah?"

His eyes shifted from the computer screen, and when his gaze met Matt's, Mello smiled. "Thanks for the candy, even if you did have to steal it from small children on Halloween."

Matt grinned slyly, hanging in the doorway. "Anything for you, darling."


	7. What You're Not Saying

**What You're Not Saying**

What was he doing wrong? Why couldn't Matt say 'I love you'? What did that mean? Was it Matt, or was it he himself that was missing the point?

When Mello first developed his ploy, it had seemed so simple, so devilish and droll, if not a sufficient way to gage how their relationship stood. So why had it lasted this long? Did that mean something was wrong, unhealthy, or bleak about his relationship with Matt?

Could this mean that it wouldn't last, that it was doomed to fail from the beginning? Would it be wrong to end it now, after he and Matt had become so invested and devoted to each other? Wouldn't it be the right thing to do, end it once and for all? No, that would kill them both.

But, on the other hand, Mello could just be acting melodramatic…it wasn't exactly uncommon for him, the neurotic trigger-happy chocoholic that he was.

Besides, what he wanted Matt to say was just _a phrase. _I. Love. You. It was most commonly uttered as an afterthought, given no thought at all. People professed their extreme adoration of others—strangers, acquaintances, or celebrities—even if the sentiment had no basis.

The phrase did, after all, consist of _just three words. _

This downwind of conflicting thoughts consumed Mello's pride, questioned his motives, and made him paranoid of his actions. As he lay awake in his bed at night, staring up at the cracked ceiling, he reflected upon every aspect of his ploy in hindsight.

The sound of exploding bullets and synthetic shouting had faded from hours past, just as the blacks and purples blotched and overcame the soft shades of dusk, and shadows and silence enveloped the apartment. All rooms were dark and empty, and the slightest of sounds would reverberate deafeningly in the stillness of night.

Mello took his eyes off the cracked ceiling, and his gaze slowly strayed to Matt, lying beside him. The redhead was stretched out, taking up most of the bed and covers, and Mello's doubts nearly disappeared. He smiled in the darkness, poked Matt's side, voicing his name.

Mello's finger was swatted away, and Matt grumpily rolled onto his side, taking more covers with him, hoarding them and making a cocoon of them. Mello curled up against Matt's warm side and, wrapping an arm around him, brought him close. Matt happily accepted this, nestling comfortably into Mello's embrace.

"Matt…" Mello whispered, leaning his chin on Matt's shoulder, his lips close to the redhead's ear.

"Mmmmm."

"Matt."

"Mmmmmmmmmm."

"MATT."

"Hmm?"

"Are you awake?"

"Mmhmm."

"Rattle off some polyatomic ions, then."

Matt turned around slowly, looking sleepy and bewildered. "…_What?_"

Mello smirked. "Forget it. I had to make sure you were listening."

Matt huffed and his bangs flitted upwards, then threw his head back into his pillow. "Uggghh," he groaned.

"You're awake now, though, aren't you? I've got to talk to you about something."

"But I'm _tired_, Mello, can't we talk in the morning?"

"I can't let this go, come on, can't you just hear me out?" Mello affectionately stroked some of Matt's hair out of his eyes. "Please?"

When he didn't answer, Mello propped himself up on his elbow so he could bend down to kiss Matt's cheek. But right before his lips brushed the soft skin, Mello hung back to admire Matt's expression, which was smoothed in tranquility. He kissed Matt with lips still formed into a smile.

Matt blushed, burying his face in his pillow. When he raised his head, Mello caught glimpse of his glittering emerald eyes. "What was that for?" He whispered.

"You. Just you. Does there have to be a reason?"

"Well, no…"

"Good. Now that you're awake, I want to ask you something."

Matt sighed and, rolling over, stretched and yawned. "Okay…what?"

"What's the first memory you have of us? One of the best times at Wammy's?"

Matt's forehead creased, his eyebrows coming together, as he didn't comprehend the significance of Mello asking him this. "Oh, um…our first kiss?"

"_Really_?" Mello said disbelievingly. "Nothing before that?"

"Nope…that's all I got. I mean, it's been a long…ah god, how long has it been? Six years? Eight years? I lost track…"

"Doesn't matter. Why does only our first kiss stick in your memory?"

"No idea. I just remember it exactly."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I remember that day you were pissed off because it was rumored that we were going out. All the kids were talking about it, pestering us about it, to the point where we couldn't be in the same room. But it was weird because we weren't used to being apart. The whole time I was on my own I was worried about you because of the way you stormed away from me earlier. After classes, when I was walking back to our room, you met up with me, and said something like 'today's been crazy, huh?' and I nodded some agreement, and you laughed, threw your arm around my shoulders, and walked with me back to our room. When we got there, I mumbled something like 'a lot of people are disappointed that it isn't true,' and you turned around slowly."

Matt chucked lowly at this point, but he continued, "I remembered flinching because I thought you were going to beat the shit outta me for saying something like that, but you looked…curious, serious, and honestly a little bit apprehensive…so you said, 'what? you want them to be true?' Suddenly feeling bold, I said 'yeah, what would it mean if they were?' You smirked and replied, 'it'd mean I could something like this' and, grabbing me by the shirt, kissed me right then and there. God, I still remember it—it was fuckin' _awesome_! I said something like, 'damn, those kids sure are geniuses'…and…yeah." Matt was grinning at the memory. "Lots of things changed after that." He concluded.

But Mello took this added afterthought the wrong way. "As in you weren't the same? What does that mean? Are you saying I didn't give you a choice?"

"What? No!" Matt quickly frowned. "God, no, Mello, why would you think that?"

"You make it seem like I didn't give you a chance to think or react, like I forced myself on you."

"Well, you did…sort of. But that's not what I meant. I mean, I thought that was a good thing. I mean, I liked it…so it _wasn't_ a bad thing. Wait, no, that doesn't sound right…what I'm trying to say is—"

"You weren't ready? Are you trying to say that I didn't _court_ you? Did you want me to?"

"No, no…I'm saying you didn't need to. I still would've become your boyfriend regardless if you did or didn't. Besides, I count our time as just being friends as courtship enough. I got to know you, I learned to trust and care about you, and that's all that matters. So what if we didn't go to some fancy restaurants? Did that kind of stuff ever matter to me?"

"No." Mello rolled onto his back and both boys stared up at the ceiling. "It didn't."

"Right. So don't worry." A few beats passed, and the room remained quiet. Matt turned to look at Mello expectantly. "Is that all you wanted to talk about?"

The blonde was frowning thoughtfully. "How do you remember stuff like that? Our first kiss—I forgot all those details until now."

"Dunno…it's important to me, I guess." Matt whispered.

Mello gazed into Matt's eyes. "Am I important to you?"

"Mello…what's gotten into you? _Of course_ you're important to me! Why would you, even for a second, think that you weren't?"

"I wanted to hear you say that, I guess." Mello shook his head. "Never mind, it was stupid. Get some sleep, okay?"

"Wait…" Matt said, touching Mello's wrist and preparing to sit up. "You're sure you're okay?"

Mello gently pushed him back into the bed. "Yeah, don't worry. I'm fine."

"If you say so…" The redhead pouted slightly, then resolved to fitting into the hollow of his lover's shoulder, snuggling close, and letting a cute, little, content sigh.

Mello waited until Matt had slipped back into a dreamless sleep to stroke his back absently and whisper into the unrelenting dark, "I don't deserve you, Matt, you know that?"


	8. Your Word

**Your Word**

Summary: A sequel to _Two Letters_.

Mello marched through their apartment door triumphantly, a plastic bag clasped in one hand. "Matt, this is going to make your day. I have the best fucking surprise ever."

A skeptical eyebrow quirked, Matt poked his head from the kitchen door. "Near died?"

"God, I wish. But no." Mello raised his arm and dangled the GameStop bag. "You know that game you want, the one you've been waiting for forever? It's yours."

Matt suddenly appeared at the blonde's side, metaphorical tail wagging. "Serisouly?" He asked excitedly. "But the release date isn't for a couple months…"

The former mafia boss winked. "I have my contacts."

Goggled eyes widened, then a gloved hand darted out to clasp the coveted game and it was quickly pressed into a stripped shirt as Matt hugged it. "REALLY? REALLY? ARE YOU CEREALLY SERIOUS?"

Mello's lips were pressed tightly into a thin line as he tried to suppress a smile. "Yes," he said serenely. "It's true."

"YOU GOT ME...YOU GOT IT FOR ME...YAY, I'M SO HAPPY!" Matt proceeded to something of a happy dance. He swung back to face Mello, a huge, dorky, adorable grin spread out across his ecstatic face. "Oh my god, Mello I—"

Dear Lord how Mello heard angels singing, THIS WAS IT!

"—don't know what to say."

Damn it. Here we go again.

"It starts with an I and ends with a U…" Mello prompted, leaning forward expectantly.

Matt gave Mello a quick hug on his way to the Xbox, patting his back. "Yep, that's double I owe ya now."

_I'll hold you to your word_. Mello thought briefly before plopping onto the couch beside Matt, ready for a 14-hour long videogame marathon.


	9. Walk Out Of My Life

**Walk Out of My Life**

Summary: Mello's persistence begins to falter as more time passes, and Matt still won't admit his love in that universal phrase to Mello.

Bright and early the next morning, Matt set a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of Mello. The blonde, perking up at the delicious smell, raised his head from dabbling in the butter and smiled up at Matt. "Thanks, Matty. Yay, pancakes! My favorite."

"Mmhmm." The redhead mumbled. The pan still sizzling on the oven, Matt wearily padded back to turn it off. He racked the cupboards for a bowl and some cereal, then joined Mello at the table. Throughout his search, he listened to Mello chatter about yesterday's progress with recent casework, the Kira Case having been solved for months now.

Though his striped sleeves were too long, Matt sleepily rubbed his eyes, then, balling the fabric around his fists, stared at Mello across the table, his breakfast untouched before him. His face fell into his palm and a vacant smile graced lips as he watched his lover happily carve up his pancakes. Mello was too damn adorable.

But, the blonde, noticing the staring, self-consciously snapped, "What the fuck are you staring at?"

"You."

"I could figure _that much_ out, but why?"

Matt glanced over Mello, and sitting with the dirty window behind him, just enough sunlight poured in to catch and cast a golden glow on his skin and hair. Although his piercing cerulean eyes were narrowed, Matt couldn't help but to grin widely.

"You're so damn beautiful."

Mello's features bent in annoyance, his forehead creasing and frown deepening, and Matt recoiled a little, not knowing what he'd said wrong. He hesitantly took a spoonful of cereal and placed it into his mouth.

Mello slammed his fork down on the table, and very coldly said, "Why the hell would you go and say that?"

"Be—because…?"

"No, you know what, Matt? I've been giving it a lot of consideration, and I don't think I can have a relationship with you anymore."

The redhead stared at Mello for a second, unbelievingly, then choked on the spoon and spoonful of cereal in his mouth. "Excuse me…what?"

"You heard me. It's over. I'm breaking up with you. I want you out. Out of my kitchen, out of my apartment, out of my life. That's it. Gone."

Matt lowered arm slowly, his mouth twisting up in an _are-you-kidding-me? _smirk.

"I mean it. I'm sick and tired of the fucking slob you are, tired of the emotional shit you put me through, and I just can't have you here anymore. You're a distraction to my work, because you're not doing anything to contribute to the investigation, which is the only reason why we're back together anyway. So, for all of that, I want you out! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? _OUT!_" Flushing furiously, Mello jabbed a finger in the direction of the door.

A comprehending smile spread across Matt's face, and his whole expression became brighter. Amusement shinning in his emerald eyes, he said, "You don't mean that."

"Of course I do!" Mello childishly stomped his feet on the ground.

"No, honey bunches of oats, you don't." Matt said calmly, scooting out of his chair. "Why? Because the only way to get rid of me is to bury me, dead in a ditch, somewhere." He took his empty bowl to the sink, then crossed back to Mello. "There's nothing else you could do that would make me want to up and walk out of your life." He bent down to kiss Mello's forehead. "So unless I die, you're stuck with me forever."

His cheeks flaring an adorable pink, Mello watched Matt retreat from the room, resisting the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. An opaque declaration of love, and as tender as it was, Mello still resolved for a true one. He'd continue trying.

But…wait.

BACK UP.

Did Matt seriously call him _honey bunches of oats_?


	10. Crosswords and Other Puzzles

**Crosswords and Other Puzzles**

Summary: With severe doubts, come renewed drive and vigor.

Mello sat at the table, with his legs crossed on top of it. He had a pen to that week's crossword puzzle in the newspaper, and he had a new plan to draw his much-sought-after declaration of love from Matt.

Said redhead then traipsed through the door to the kitchen, having just woken up, his expression twisted up sourly. Mello paid no mind, though, for rather cheerfully exclaiming, "Morning, glory!"

Mello was given narrowed eyes and a low growl in response. His smile didn't falter. This was going to be it, dammit. Matt was going to tell him me love him, dammit! He just had to cheer up at bit. So Mello said, "Hey, Matt! What's an eight-letter declaration of devotion between two lovers?"

"Don't know, don't care." Matt grabbed an orange from the counter, then turned around to leave.

"Come on, I can't get this one! I'm sure you know it!"

"Not in the mood."

Mello followed the path Matt had set out on, and found his boyfriend curled up on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket. Puzzled, Mello touched his shoulder and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing's something." Mello frowned. "Now tell me."

"Okay, fine." Emerald eyes rolled. "I didn't get any sleep last night."

"What happened?"

"I kept having a nightmare."

"And you didn't wake me up?"

"It's really stupid, Mello, you would've just gotten mad at me," Matt said harshly.

Mello nodded sympathetically. "You know what, that's probably true."

Matt narrowed his eyes.

"But I'm not going to get mad now!" Mello added defensively. His features smoothed, "Come on, seriously, I want to know what's bothering you, so I can help."

"You're going to laugh."

"I promise I won't."

"Fine." The redhead's jaw set. "Do remember…last week…when you came home and…it was that day…I drew all those pictures?"

"Yeah."

"Do remember _why_?"

"Yeah, you wanted to shoot the fucking brains out of this mouse that stole your Poptart, right?"

Matt nodded.

"Okay, so…what's that got to do with your nightmare?"

A frown overturned Matt's mouth, and green eyes masked by orange goggles averted. "In my nightmare that damn mouse came back and it wanted revenge. Like, it wouldn't let me shooting at it go. It c-c-ame b-back for me, it came back for my Poptart! It wouldn't go away because it wanted it so badly, and it was really, really, REALLY scary!" Matt was hyperventilating at this point. He took a breath to add, "And then you died." At admitting this, his eyes glazed over with tears and the redhead took in a shaky breath, lower lip trembling.

And at the sight of Matt close to tears because his subconscious wouldn't allow him to keep his Poptart, Mello couldn't laugh. The urge had bubbled in his throat, threatened to spill out, but he just…couldn't. He couldn't be _that_ heartless. Shoot up some people? Hell yes. Anytime. Laugh at Matt crying over a Poptart? No way, that's just wrong. "Oh, Matt…come on. It's okay. I can run to the store to buy you another box of Poptarts, if you want. Do you want me to do that? Come on, I'll even use my chocolate-money..."

Matt sniffed, and his eyes sparkled. "You'd do that for me?" He asked hopefully.

"Yeah, I'm leaving right now." Mello promised. Although Matt's behavior was puzzling, he didn't ask. He just knew he wanted to do anything to cheer him up, even if it meant sacrificing the money he'd spend this week on chocolate for some mouse traps and a box of Brown Sugar Cinnamon Poptarts. But Matt caught his wrist as he standing up, though. Blushing, he quietly said, "Thanks."

"Sure." Mello stood, and patted Matt's gloriously red head. "I am here for you, you know. I'll always protect you. So if that damned rat shows its hideous face, call me, 'cause I won't hesitant to stomp the shit out of it for you."

Matt smiled. "I know. And Mello?"

"Yeah?"

"Its proposal."

Mello's features registered his confusion. "Huh? What is?"

"The answer to your crossword, its proposal. An eight-letter declaration of devotion between lovers. _Proposal_."

"Huh," Mello murmured in a contemplating tone. "Proposal." He smirked, hand grasping the brass door handle. "Thanks, Matt. Be back in ten, 'kay?"

And before he shut the door, Mello could've sworn he caught a glimpse of Matt's returning smirk.

**A/N- And now we're up to Matt: 6, Mello: 4. **


	11. If It Means That Much To You

**If It Means That Much To You **

**A/N - I'd like to dedicate this special-edition chapter to Miss Bright, who brilliantly suggested Matt pretend that Mello actually proposed to him in the last chapter, since Matt thought 'proposal' was the answer to the crossword puzzle, and it wasn't (everyone picked up on 'I love you' and 'proposal' both having eight letters, yeah?) XD **

Mello hadn't gotten down the first flight of steps before he heard his apartment door slam against the wall (no doubt chipping the paint), and the sound of clonking boots reverberating, exploding in the stillness of the stairwell. "MELLO, WAIT!"

The sudden, breathless exclamation echoed loudly, and Mello's next step halted. Slowly, he lifted his cerulean eyes, his bangs obscuring his view. "Huh?"

Matt leaned over the edge of the railing, loosely holding on. "You clever jackass."

"_What?_"

"Wait right there," came the echo of a reply, and Matt languidly bounced down the stairs separating them. The blonde spun around to face him, confused. Not twenty seconds ago had he left, promising to buy the gamer's beloved Poptarts.

"What's wrong?" Mello demanded, a spike of fear spiraling to his heart. The redhead's expression was ecstatic, a goofy grin spread out across his face, his green eyes radiating bright, happy light. Mello feared the worst. "Are you okay? Did the mouse come back?"

"What a clever, clever way of asking. I can certainly admit to not expecting it."

"Um, thanks, I guess… Are you sure you're okay?"

A look of smug understanding washed over Matt's features. "Wow, you seriously can't play innocent right now. There's no use 'cause I got it all figured out."

"You're not making any sense. Figured out what?"

"I'm not talking about the mouse, Mello. I'm talking about how weird you've been acting lately, and don't deny it because it's been going on for a while. You didn't think I noticed, did you?"

Mello suddenly felt dizzy, stoked with overwhelming fear, worry, and guilt. For once, the blonde didn't know what to say. He stared at Matt, sparsely breathing, instantly regretting everything. Had Matt been onto him all along? Had he know about the ploy, went along with it?

He sunk to his knees, settling down onto a step. He barely registered the sound of Matt moving to sit beside him. If that had been the case, then why?

Matt rested his elbows on his knees, tilting his head to his side to gaze evenly his boyfriend. "It's all been a sort of build up, hasn't it?"

"I don't get it," Mello's eyebrow arched. "What are you saying?"

Matt smiled. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"…What are you saying yes to?"

"To marrying you, Mello! That's why you asked me to solve that crossword puzzle."

WHAT? Where the hell did he get that from? MARRY HIM? They were getting MARRIED now? Like, tux and white dress? A wedding? To wed he and Matt together? Somehow he had never pictured that happening…

Mello could only stare, breathless. Slightly horrified. Slightly overwhelmed. Slightly mystified. Slightly smitten.

"I asked you to marry me?"

"Yeah, and I agreed. What's the problem?"

…_Marriage? _Was that the answer to all of this?

But, wait, hadn't Mello recently doubted the entire groundwork of their relationship? Considered ending it, doubting its survival? Somehow getting married seemed like a hasty way of preventing the evitable.

But hadn't he also known they'd always end up with each other, and stay content for eternity? Besides, he couldn't bear to be apart again, that'd just kill them both.

What was he thinking? It was _Matt_. Mello loved him with everything he had and was. He _loved_ him. Nothing would change that.

And if it made Matt happy, what the hell. That's all Mello wanted. "Okay," he said firmly. The decision was made, and he wouldn't regret it.

"Okay?"

"We're getting married."

Matt smiled with indescribable serenity, immeasurable happiness. "Really?"

"Yes," Mello clasped Matt's head and brought it close so he could kiss the redhead's forehead. "There's no one else I'd ever want to be my Mrs. Keehl but you."

When his face returned to sight, Matt was blushing. "Yeah right! Everyone will take one look at you and call you Mrs. Jeevas."

"Oh, so I have to take your last name? There's no democracy? I'm the powerless, restrained housewife already?"

"Yep."

"How demoralizing."

"I'm sorry… but you don't have a say, dear."

"I have a say whether you're getting your Poptarts or not, if I'm in charge of the grocery shopping, hon."

"No, you'll get them!"

"Oh. Why?"

"Because you—and I—" He looked ready to say something more, opened his mouth and took a breath, but stopped short. His mouth twisted up in a careful grin, but something about his eyes looked dulled. He was holding whatever he wanted to say back.

Mello knew what he was going to say, felt it as his heart fluttered. _Because you love me and I love you. _But he didn't care, too caught up in the pure joy of the moment. He stood, motioning Matt up as well. "Come on, it'll be dark soon. Time to get you your Poptarts, Mr. Jeevas."

"Together?"

"Forever, babe."

When they reached that bottom of the stairwell, Matt took Mello's hand in his, twining their fingers together. Mello looked at him surprised, the silent, sweet gesture uncommon between them, but the redhead shyly ducked his head, the blush creeping to his cheeks a red matching the shade to his hair.

And as Mello reached to hold the door open for both of them, he thought, _Maybe everything will be okay. _He wanted—needed—that declaration of love, and soon, but not right now. No more games. Just this. This moment, this feeling._ Maybe it'll all work out, fall into place._ Once they were out on the street, Mello smiled a small, secret smile as he peered at Matt beside him, who returned the smile. Tossing an arm around the redhead, he tugged him close. _Just maybe._

**Thank you, Miss Bright. For the idea, for the reviews. Every review has been insightful, witty, and kind–for that I am grateful. :) **

**But I want to specify that this isn't following the actual plotline. Does that make sense? It's like an alternate scene (or if you want to think of it as a deleted scene, that's fine). Hey, if anyone else has a suggestion, I'm totally open to it. In fact, I encourage it. What'cha got, people? **


	12. All in the Past

**All in the Past**

**Matt age 11, Mello age 12**

_Mello ran into the nurse's office, tired and out of breath, scrambling to find the room that contained Matt. Once he found the right door, he kicked it open, fists clenched. From across the room, emerald eyes, finally without goggles, shot open. "Mello?"  
_

"_You idiot!" Mello shouted, edging closer to the redhead, gritting his teeth irately. "You stupid, stupid—"_

"_Good to see you, too." Matt said weakly, half-smiling back at the blonde, struggling to raise himself to a sitting position. _

"_DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED YOU HAD ME?"_

"_Then why are you screaming at me?" _

"_I can't believe you'd go against my word. I told you not to get involved. I told you not to fight that kid because I could handle it. It was _my _fight. You're lucky you're alive, damn it! You could've seriously injured yourself! And where would I have been, what would I have done? It would've been all my fault, not that that really matters, because that'd leave me without you, which is more im—"_

"_Shut up."_

"_WHAT?" _

"_Shut the hell up! I don't care about getting hurt—you're okay, aren't you?"_

"_Wait, why are you asking me if I'm okay? You're in the friggin' Nurse's Office with bruises all over your body!" _

"_I took all those hits so you wouldn't have to be bothered by that kid anymore. I tried to beat him up so he'd leave you alone." Matt bowed his head, dropping his voice. "I wanted to protect you." _

"_I know, but—"_

"_At least you'll be okay now. I think I taught him a lesson."_

"_I-I…" Mello frowned, defeated. "Fine." He folded his arms over his chest and plopped grumpily in the seat next to Matt's bed. "But you're not getting a thank-you."_

_Matt smiled. "I don't need one." _

_Mello blinked. "Why not?"_

"_Because I always protect the people I love. Seeing you safe is all I need."_

* * *

**Matt age 13, Mello age 14 **

"_Oh my god, Matt. I can't believe you just said that, you're amazing. I freaking love you." _

"_You love me? How much?"_

"_Ahh, definitely more than I love vanilla." _

"_Pfft, come on. That's not fair. You love _Near _more than you love vanilla." _

"_Not true! If anything, vanilla reminds me of him, and at the sight of it I'm reminded of my hatred of both. Damn albino. Damn sheep-resembling albino who needs to die. God, how I wish he'd just die. My young life might be made if I found his wrangled little freak-corpse in a ditch, cold and frickin' pale. You know what else should be burred in a ditch? Vanilla. Ugh, every time I taste it I want to vomit because that acidic, burning sensation in my throat tastes a lot better that vanilla. You know, that brings me back to—" _

"_Wow. Way to get off topic, Mels. That's—that's awesome!"_

"_Oh, yeah. Sorry. Where you saying something? I think I cut you off…"_

"_Quit avoiding it. Just tell me you love already. Go on, say it." _

"_Matt, I love you more than I love chocolate." _

"_Haha. Nice try." _

"_I've never said something more true than that! I swear on Milton Hershey's life!" _

"_Yeah, like I'm going to believe that."_

"_Aw, I'm trying to be sincere here and you're killing it. Come on, Matty. I love you. " _

"_No, I don't believe it. Know why? 'Cause you're a lying son of a—_mmph._"_

**

* * *

**

**Matt age 13, Mello age 14 **

_The redhead, perched on the edge of the bathtub, watched his roommate brush his teeth through the mirror with his own toothbrush in his mouth. Both, cozy in their pajamas, were getting ready for bed. _

_Previously there had been a war over the toothpaste, which Mello won, though his long black sleeved shirt was not spared a casualty, while Matt had somehow gotten globs of it in his hair and eyes. This, of course, counted as a loss because as he struggled to clear his vision, his competitor was able to get the victorious first quirt of Colgate on his toothbrush. _

_Now, only thoughts filled the quiet room, and the occasional stare-off through the reflecting glass of the mirror occurred, though that didn't last long when one would break out into laughter or a smile and the other would join in. _

"_Matt," Mello suddenly said, breaking the comfortable silence. "Can I ask you something serious?" _

"_All ears, Mel." Matt removed the toothbrush from his mouth. "What's on your mind?" _

"_Sometimes do you just hate this place, and wish you could, somehow, just pack up and leave?" _

"_Not following you." _

_Mello bit hard down on his toothbrush, trying to rephrase what he was thinking in order to say it in a way Matt would understand. "Isn't the pressure too much sometimes? Almost to the point where you just want to get away from it, from everything and everyone one? Haven't you ever thought about leaving?"_

"_Leaving? No, I haven't thought about it. I can't imagine being on my own again. Besides, where would I go without you? I wouldn't just up and leave you, Mello. Why are you thinking about it?" _

"_I'm just saying—hypothetically." _

"_Even hypothetically, though, I still wouldn't leave without you."_

"_Yeah, I know. But _if_—" _

"_No 'ifs'. My answer is final." _

"_Fine, stupid. Have it your way. We'd go together, even hypothetically." _

"_Good," Matt said, grinning brightly, pleased with himself. _

_Mello rolled his eyes and scrubbed his teeth some more. _

"_Wait." Matt thoughtfully scratched his head, thinking real hard about the matter. "Why are we leaving in the first place again?"_

"_Dunno." A shrug. "Sometimes I think staying here isn't worth it."_

"_Oh." Matt didn't say any more, just washed out his mouth, mood deflated. He put his toothbrush back quietly, but paused in the doorway. He faced the blonde with a miserable expression. "What keeps you, then?"_

_Mello smirked. "You, stupid." _

**

* * *

**

**Matt**

_Have you ever loved someone so much you physically began to expire when they abandoned you? _

_I have. _

_You'd walk around, telling yourself all kinds of lies, building yourself up to how happy you'd be when they miraculously returned to your side, only to destroy that hope when days went by without a sign of them. You nearly drove yourself insane repeating that cycle, building yourself up, breaking yourself down. Until you couldn't handle it anymore, settling to a comfortable state of numbness, because then, for that brief escape, you'd forget the pain. _

_Have you ever loved someone so much, you took up a horrible, horrible habit as a useless way to lessen only the slightest of the pain? _

_I have. _

_If it only worked after the beginning. You actually thought, for just one second, the pain would leave you. But now you've learned it will be kept within you, your heart and soul, for the eternity you were supposed to spend with your loved one. _

_Have you ever been so sick, so hurt by that person you loved so much that you wondered how you'd ever be able to set yourself apart from that constant devastation? _

_I have. _

_So I jumped on a goddamn plane to chase down the motherfucker who broke my heart. _

**

* * *

**

**Mello**

_Do you know what the hardest thing to do in the whole entire world is?_

_Hurting someone you love, and doing it for their own good, but doing it in a way where they'd always blame you and hate you because they didn't know why you were hurting them. _

_It hurt so much to leave, tore your heart in two, to the point where you wanted to run right back, wanted so badly to escape your fate. You thought, for just one second, that you'd be able to throw your dreams away just to be with that person you loved. But you couldn't, because you knew better. You knew what was best for the both of you, even if it hurt more. You just had to repeat that to yourself, over and over and over again, especially in your weakest moments. _

_In abandoning them, you were protecting them. Only they'd never know that, so you'd have to live with knowing they'd hold so much anger and grief angled towards you and you couldn't take it away. You couldn't find them, sit down and explain everything, apologize and pray to God they'd forgive you. Because you loved them. You loved them so much, and you hoped they understand your absence. That fact that you'd never told them goodbye. _

_And some part of you, the less selfish part, hoped they could move on. Hoped they could find someone else so they could love again, and not wait in your shadow. A shadow you knew you could never extract from their heart. _

**

* * *

****Matt age 19, Mello age 21 **

_Mello stared hard back at Matt, who didn't seemed fazed at all by his ragged appearance or his brazen attitude, even if this was the first time they'd met face to face since L's death. "I've changed," he told Matt. "Can't you see?" _

"_Oh come on, you don't look much different. Sure, your hair's longer, and you're taller. But those aren't big changes," Matt exclaimed, throwing his arms wide in the alleyway Mello found him in. He smiled hopefully, surveying the dirty brick walls like they were in audience and agreement with him. "You're still _you_, right? I still recognized you after all these years, didn't I?" _

"_Maybe on the surface I haven't changed much, but inside…I'm so different. I'm…not a good person anymore." _

_Matt looked hurt, his smile quickly disappearing. "Don't say that…" _

Maybe I've always been a bad person, but never believed it because you've only ever saw the goodness in me, _Mello thought as he held Matt's gaze. "I'm in the business of stealing now, or maybe I've always been."_

"_Stealing?" _

"_Yeah, stealing. I kill people now. Betcha didn't expect that, huh? I'm a cold-hearted murderer now, not that kid who was second smartest in that goddamn institution anymore. I've killed so many people, Matt. I'm not just a bad person, I'm a monster." Mello's jaw set. "Yeah, stealing. I've taken lives away, robbed people of…everything. Their future, their loved ones. Everything they were, everything they wanted to be. It's all on me, because I stole it from them."_

_Matt kept quiet, taking this in. He looked overwhelmed, uncertain, devastated. _

_Mello's forehead creased, and he couldn't raise his head. His eyes seemed fixed on the gun he held in his lap. "How many people is it? How many? I can't even remember…" When he spoke, he sounded disgusted, yet there was an urgency to his words that scared Matt. "Too many…all my fault…I didn't feel anything as I watched them die." _

"_That's not exactly the definition of stealing, though…"_

"_No, what I've done is worse," Mello snapped. "Along with killing a ton of people, I also stole your heart, kept it for myself, then ran away with it." His tone turned to bitterness, his eyes narrowed coldly. "Tell me, Matt, how have you felt for the past five years, without me? Miserable at best, I imagine. And that's all my fault. All me. You've spent your entire childhood, and the rest of your teenage years loving me, waiting for me to come back, but I never did."_

"_No, Mello—"_

"_LISTEN!" Mello shouted. "You could've forgotten me, moved on. You could've let go of your feelings for me. Better, you could've never loved me in the first place. Then you wouldn't be here, risking your life for me 'cause you'd be with someone else. Someone you deserve. Someone that would treat you a whole hell of a lot better than I ever did. I stole your heart, Matt, and that's the worst kind of stealing possible. I almost _killed you, _didn't I?" _

_Mello's heart tore in two, slowly and painfully, in the silence that ensued. Ashamed, he couldn't bring himself to look at Matt. He felt the angry tears well in his eyes. He took a few breaths, forcing them not to fall, and carefully set his mask, the barrier where he locked down his emotions, back into place, and shifted his eyes to gage Matt's expression. When he looked up, he half-expected the alleyway to be empty. It wasn't. _

_Matt was smirking ruefully, taking out his pack of cigarettes with deliberate slowness. He bowed his head, bangs obscuring his eyes, chuckling softly as he pulled out his lighter. "You're such an idiot," he said, taking the lit cigarette out of his mouth, exhaling smoke. "Do you really think that matters?"_

"_What?" _

"_Did you really think I'd care?" _

"_What? About me?" His voice sounded hopeless and broken; exactly how he felt. _

_Just as quickly as Matt's demeanor had become smug, it switched to being hostile. "No. I don't care what you've become. I don't care that you've killed people. I don't care that you're 'bad' now. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care!" He screamed, knocking over the crate he'd been sitting on. The loud noise made Mello jump, but Matt's livid expression and sad, hurt tone terrified him even more, made his blood run cold. "I don't care about the past. I DON'T CARE!" _

_Mello, immobilized with fear, just stared at Matt. He couldn't think of what to say, what to think. He was frozen, cold from the bitterness Matt was showing. The bitterness he hadn't known Matt could contain. And knowing he deserved it, and a lot worse, further deepened the anguish he felt. _

_Matt sighed, letting out a deep breath. He stomped out the cigarette he'd been holding. "All I care about is _YOU_, right here, right now. Nothing else matters." _

_Mello didn't have time to respond, for Matt came to him, pulling him off the seat of his motorcycle. In a moment of terror, Mello thought Matt would hit him, physically hurt him as much as he'd been emotionally hurt by him, but instead Matt captured him in a tight embrace, burying his face the blonde's shoulder. Mello remained speechless as Matt's arms stayed around him, keeping him close. _

_It was hard to believe. After all these years, after enduring all this pain, Matt could still forgive him. It was incredible. What Mello felt in Matt's arms was the warmest, purest, most beautiful thing he'd ever felt. He didn't want to ever let it go, that feeling, or the feeling of being enveloped in Matt's warm, tight embrace. _

"_I'm so sorry, Matt. For everything, I'm sorry." _

_Mello felt the tears hit his shoulder before he heard Matt speak. "Don't you ever say you're not good enough for me to love. Don't ever tell me that I don't deserve you. Don't ever leave me again." _

"_No. Never again." _

"_I've missed you." _

"_Matt…" _

"_I love you, Mello. I love you so much." _

_

* * *

_

**Matt age 20, Mello age 21**

_Pressed in to the stiff, grey hospital sheets lay Matt's hand. Fingers stretched out, palm facing down. Its color wasn't much different from the pallor of the blanket under it. Then again, everything seemed pale and cold since their planned kidnapping occurred. _

_Water droplets, thin and clear like tears, streamed down the windows, streaking it with grey sorrow and unrelenting gloom. _

_Mello had been staring at Matt's lifeless hand for what seemed like days from his seat pulled up next to the hospital bed. He'd held that hand countless times—meaningfully, unconsciously, selfishly. But now, possibly when it seemed most important of all, he couldn't. He couldn't reach out and hold Matt's hand, because he'd never known how to let him know he'd be there for him. _

How could you do this to me, Matt? _Mello thought. _How could you risk your life, for me? After all I've done to you, all the pain I've put you through?

_Resolving to withdraw his arms off the edge of the bed, Mello took his hands and rubbed his own face, trying to smooth away the seemingly permanent edges of worry that had etched themselves into his features. The paranoia had slowly consumed him over the days since Matt was emitted in the hospital. _

_A thousand thoughts of what past, what was, and what could be had winded through his mind. _

_And he was brought back to that night. Hearing him pronounced dead. So tense and anxious as he couldn't get to him fast enough, knuckles bone-white on the steering wheel. Seeing the smashed glass and bullet casings in Matt's car and never being so damn scared in his entire life. Being restrained as his bloodied body was lifted into the ambulance. Crying his name with the stabbing knowledge that it couldn't be heard, fearing that it might never be heard again. _

_Back in the hospital again, Mello bowed his head, hands clasping reverently in his lap, eyes closing. _Be strong, Matt. Please hold on, for me. I need you. Although I know I don't deserve it, please don't leave me.

_When the tears streamed down his cheeks, he didn't bother to wipe them away. He'd never cry for any other reason. And this was a reason worth crying for. _

"_My God…Mello, what's wrong?" His clear, bright green eyes opened slowly, a delicate frown on his lips. Matt's voice was strained and weak, but Mello could've sworn he'd never been gladder to hear it. _

"_Oh, Matt." Mello snorted, swiping a hand over his wet cheeks. Typical Matt. Worried more about others—especially him—than himself. _

_On his elbows, he reached an arm out to touch Mello's shoulder. "No seriously, are you okay?" _

"_Don't do that! Lie back, you'll hurt yourself," Mello chided, smiling all the while. _

"_Only if you tell me what's wrong." Matt stubbornly demanded. _

"_Nothing…I'm just—" _So happy to see you._ He couldn't say it. For all it was worth, Mello couldn't say it. Pain seared his heart, this being another reminder that he didn't deserve Matt. He couldn't tell him he loved him. Not now, when he need to hear it the most. _

_And Matt understood. The small, lazy smile that broke and spread across his face was the most beautiful thing Mello had ever laid eyes on. _

"_Do know how worried you had me?" Mello whispered, tears once again resurfacing in his cobalt eyes as his voice broke. That, tragically, wasn't the only thing that was broken. "I've been so scared…that…that you—"_

"_Shh, don't say it." _

"_Oh, Matty, I—"_

"_I know. I love you, too." _

"_How? I left you, how can you—"_

"_You left, but you never stopped loving me. And I've always known that." Matt shifted in the grey hospital sheets. "Only thing that's ever scared me is never seeing you again." _

_Mello finally took Matt's hand in his, holding his gaze adamantly. "You won't have to worry about that ever again." _

_Matt tilted the side of his head, an amused light in his eyes. He reached out a hand—that one that wasn't clasped in Mello's—and wiped the tears from his cheek with his thumb. "God, would you stop crying? It's like a fuckin' soap opera in here." _


	13. What You Deserve

**What You Deserve **

Mello was being unfair. Like the biggest kid on the playground who evilly prevented the other children from sharing the swing set, he was being selfish and insufferable. He had stolen away from their orphanage, eyes set to his own future, not bothering to bring his best friend, sidekick, and soul mate along. And upon welcoming him back into his life, he still hadn't treated him any better.

Matt didn't deserve that. Not anymore. Mello resolved to make things right; his wounded pride in no comparison to all the shit he put Matt through. He owed this to him. They weren't kids anymore. He was man. And hell, he hadn't been acting like one. He had been so incredibly selfish, which was about to change.

Mello, clenching his fists, trudged confidently to the couch. He found Matt there, sitting on the edge of the battered cushion, punching buttons on the ever-present controller in his hands.

"I messed up, okay? I messed up and I totally fucked up our lives, alright? I don't deserve you; I'm a selfish bastard for leaving you, but, somehow you're okay with that. I know I don't deserve it. I'm the worst asshole alive, but you've stuck by me—no matter what. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. Like a really fucking lot. I love you. Okay, Matt? You win—I love you."

Was worrying over this ploy as pathetic as he just sounded?

"Aw, damn." Matt cursed, his words slurring around the cigarette between his lips. "The game skipped. 'M gonna lose my position in this damn race. Fuck a duck."

Mello did a doubletake. "Were you listening to anything I just said?"

Matt's eyes widened. "Oh, shit!" Taking in the presence of the blonde, totally shocked by his unnoticed appearance, Matt continued, "Mels, you scared me." Somehow maintaining first place in the race and throwing a brief apologetic glance at Mello, he pulled out the earbuds Mello hadn't noticed he was wearing before.

Well, damn. That was embarrassing. Mello swallowed a bit of his now-fragmented ego, and pushed away his new conquest for a moment. The blonde joined Matt on the couch, watching him cautiously. Mello stared hard at him, as if he couldn't quite seem him clearly through the smoky cloud expanding and swelling from his cigarette. His plan to beseech Matt for due-forgiveness, then express his love had been spoiled—for now—but Mello was determined to bring Matt through the fog that their relationship seemed to be going through. Or get himself through it. Or at least meet halfway in the haze—it didn't matter. He just knew it was his fault, and that he had to fix it himself.

Mello was so focused on these revelations, so caught him in his metaphor, that he didn't realize he'd literally tried to pass through the cloud of smoke towards Matt. His was hovering close to him, his chin nearly touching Matt's shoulder, when he realized how bizarre and psychotic he was acting.

"Um, personal space." Matt murmured, his chin tilting his Mello's direction, his eyes not leaving the television screen. "Don't invade it, Hershey-breath."

"I would say the same for you, pothead." Mello scoffed, swatting his hand through the smoky air around them. He was secretly relieved to engage in their typical snarky banter as opposed to dwelling in his complicated thoughts.

The redheaded gamer shook his head, the corner of his mouth upturning in an amused smirk. "Good one."

With one last wary glace at Matt, Mello let out the breath he'd been holding. _Whatever_, he thought. _I'll have to repeat myself whenever the mindless git decides to give me his full attention_. _This wasn't the right time, and I'll find it—or make it, if I have to—soon. _Regaining his bearings, Mello scooted away from Matt. "Dinner's ready," he announced, voice its usual firm, surly, abrasive tone. "Haul your lazy ass to the table and eat it with me."

**A/N – I'm sorry this took a long time to update! If I say in the next chapter Mello and Matt get crazy and drunk will everyone promise to lower their pitchforks/mass-murdering notebooks/shiny, sideways-tilted guns/lightsabers/rapiers/phazers/rubber chickens/anything else that can be used to hurt me with? Oh, and I wanted to mention that the song "Louder Than Thunder" by The Devil Wears Prada inspired this chapter, as "Forever and Always (acoustic)" by Bullet For My Valentine and "What If" by Safetysuit did the last. They're all tragic, chilling, and beautiful—and if you want to get really get a feel for the story, I recommend them. Okay, that's enough talking. **_**Doneiloveyouadieu**_**, Meohy :3 **


	14. Intoxication Interrogation

**Intoxication Interrogation**

Mello had been at it all night—slowly easing Matt into an interrogation fueled by intoxication. That's right, the clever blonde figured that with enough alcohol his stubborn, oblivious lover would be loosened enough to indulge him with the three words he had sought after for an eternity, it now seemed. A dirty way to play (and really, did you expect any better?), but Mello's hope was diminishing. His chances were sparse. This was a desperate matter. Okay, maybe that last reason was the alcohol talking. Because let's face it, Mello was drinking pretty heavily, too.

_After a few hours…_

Matt slumped in the chair across the table from him, his eyes bleary. His head was lulling downwards, but his arm extended for more scotch from the bottle Mello was holding. The blonde obliged, but not without throwing a question at him. "Why do you think we're together?" Mello asked, eyeing Matt carefully.

"We're always together!" Came the loopy and ecstatic response.

"Why's that, huh?"

"You let me live with you!"

"Yeah?" Mello poured more into Matt's glass, urging him on.

The redhead gulped it all down, wincing as it burned his throat. "…And all my stuff's here. And all your stuff's here." He made vast arm motions. "I don't wanna move it." His arms fell to the table, and he pouted. "'M too lazy."

"So you'd leave me if you could? You're just too lazy to?"

"I leave you all the time—someone has to do the grocery shopping!"

Mello banged his head against the table. "Yeah, but Matt—"

"What about you?" He suddenly asked. "Why do you think we're together?"

"'Cause I don't wanna be apart." Mello picked his head up to slug down some more scotch himself. "It would kill me." He rasped.

"You know what kills people?" His companion voiced matter-of-factly. "Scurvy, toasters, and trees that move." Matt's eyes grew wide as Mello gave him a doubtful look. "It's true!" He exclaimed, then shook his head slowly. "And, besides, _you're_ being silly. We're not apart!" Matt latched onto Mello's arm and hugged it against his stomach. "Look, see! We're linked together now, and nothing's…gonna…break…that chain…except a thunderstorm. Maybe." Matt pushed his glass towards Mello, motioning for more.

"That's it. There isn't anymore. You drank it all."

Matt slammed his glass hard on the table. "Hit me with your best shot, Donkey Kong!"

"You've had enough, Milton Hershey!" Mello shot back.

_Some minutes pass, the excessive alcohol beginning to shut them down …_

"Whoa," the gamer touched his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm tired."

"Same here."

"I want to go to bed now." Matt's head seemed like it was gravitating towards to the table, slowly drooping until it made contact. With his face turned towards the refrigerator, he asked Mello, "Do you think it will come out of our room and in here so I don't have to move? The bed, I mean."

"Won't fit through the door."

"Oh, yes it will."

"How?" Mello said, his head lowering to the table too.

"My telepathy."

"You've got telepathy?"

"Mmhmm."

"What color am I thinking of?"

"Is it purple?"

_Time seems to be wasting away in this blurry, insensible reality… _

"Matt…"

"Hmm?"

"You're not falling asleep, are you?"

"Mm-mmm."

"'Cause I gotta tell you something…" Mello murmured, the blackness on the top and bottom of his vision overcoming the dim light of the kitchen.

"Hmm?"

His eyes were slowly slipping closed—he could hardly fight it anymore. He feared Matt was slipping away as well. But he had to get this out. "'S important…"

"Mmhmm."

"…I gotta tell you that…that I love you…"

"…"

"Matt…? Did you hear me? Are you still awake?"

It was past noon by the time Matt had stirred to find Mello hovering over him, hand posed over the phone. Matt had been passed out so long he had been ready to call the nearest hospital. Mello, who had woke up earlier and had more time to recover, helped him sit up and passed a piece of toast to the redhead.

"What happened?" Matt asked when his eyes finally focused. "I don't remember a thing."

"You drained an entire keg of beer yourself and belted a French opera from the rooftop." Mello said matter-of-factly.

Matt rubbed his eyes with a striped sleeve. "Sounds hardcore." He yawned.

Mello kept his mouth in a straight line, but Matt still caught the knowing glean in his cerulean gaze. "It was."


	15. Word War

**Word War**

Matt plopped down on their tattered beside Mello, biting into his breakfast. The blonde threw the other end of blanket across his lap onto Matt's legs. "Morning, glory." Matt responded, flicking the blonde ponytail Mello's hair was tied up in.

The chocoholic made a face. "Why are you eating a sandwich for breakfast? That's wrong." He scrunched up his nose. "It's like eating a burger at six o'clock in the morning, which would be disgusting."

"It's two pieces of toast put together in a peanut butter and nutella sandwich." Matt clarified, matter-of-factly. He took another bite of his concoction. "The toasted bread makes it a breakfast food." His eyes focused on the TV screen before them, the flashing imagines reflecting on his orange goggles. "What are you watching?"

"The news." Mello responded. "See, every Saturday morning they do this 'Three Words' special. People make homemade videos of their week, describing it in three words, and send it in."

Matt tilted his head to the side as an elderly couple held up three signs reading: Our. 50th. Anniversary. Then a little boy hugging his father, who was dressed up in military fatigues, raised a sign that said: Daddy's. Come. Home. An excitable tween girl lifted a piece of cardboard above her head, displaying her three words: Got. Bieber. Tickets! A teenaged girl pointed to a poster of a German rock band and showed the camera a message written on looseleaf: Gonna. Marry. Bill!

"Ah. Nice." Matt said, wondering how Mello could watch this without getting a toothache. It was sickeningly sweet, contrary to Mello's personality.

"If you sent something in, what would you say?" Mello surprised Matt by asking when the news special had ended.

With his features reading like a question mark, Matt said, "Got. Laid. Yay…?"

Matt was given a pointed look.

"You could give me something a little more sentimental than that. Is that all you think of me?" Mello demanded.

"What are you talking about?" Matt exclaimed. "That was sentimental and from the heart!" The redhead sniffed melodramatically. "I think you seriously hurt my feelings just then." His hand covered his place where his heart would be. "Aim for the heart, why don't you."

"With an aim like that little gay elf boy from that you play."

"_Link._" Matt corrected. "From the Legend of Zelda."

"Yeah. That's who I meant. Little kid's good with a bow and arrow, right?" Mello kept his eyes trained on the TV commercials. "Bet you can't guess what I'd say." He challenged, referring to the 'Three Words' news special.

"Huh," the redheaded gamer took another bite of his toasted breakfast-sandwich. "What three words you got for me?"

"You go first." Mello smiled darkly. "Fix your other answer."

"Nope," Matt shot back. "I wanna hear what you have to say."

"You."

"You."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No."

"No."

"Ugh, you go!"

"No, you!"

"Not going to ask again!"

"Don't. I'll do this all day."

"Fine!"

"Okay, then go!"

The blonde cleared his throat, expression having gone serious. He tried his best attempted at a serene expression as he dramatically reached out to grasp his lover's face. "Matt…"

"Mello…?" Matt raised his eyebrows amusedly, expectantly. Not buying into the fail of an act his boyfriend/best friend was trying to put on.

"Nothin', just…'He's. My. Bitch.' would be my three words. There'd be an arrow pointing to you, of course."

The humor in Matt's expression vanished for a moment. "Like it isn't obvious if I'm the only one in the room…?"

"I'm kidding." Mello tousled his hair good-humoredly. "'You're. My. Everything.' There, those are my three words. You're my everything. And that's never going to change, no matter how pissy I can be. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it." Matt laughed. "Though I'm still not over that bitch comment…"

**

* * *

**

**A/N- I've lost count of who's winning now, lol. Hmm, just because Matt's eating a peanut butter and nutella sandwich (which I'm currently addicted to), I'm going to give him the lead. For the sandwich's sake. Oh, before I forget: coming soon - my splendid friend Sweet Discord and I's collaboration 'Ransom', which will be the plotline for the next few chapters! Look forward to it, lovelies! _Doneiloveyouadieu_, Meohy :3 **


	16. Ransom Part I: Message to Matt

**Ransom Part I: Message to Matt**

**A/N - This chapter is dedicated to Sweet Discord since it was wicked and lovely of her to come up with the idea for this chapter with me in conversation we had about holding Matt's goggles ransom. He's just too oblivious; and, therefore, he needs sense and attentiveness knocked into his gorgeously red head! And it was amazing of her to let me use this as the plot for the next few chapters. So, Sweet Discord, you get a colossal thank you! THANKS, GIRL! XD **

"Hey Mels," Matt stepped out of the bathroom with a towel draped over his head. He was slipping a multicolored studded belt through the loops of his skinny jeans as he padded barefoot across the living room. "Is there a still a quart of chocolate milk in the fridge? I'm gonna have it with breakfast."

As he passed under the archway, he tugged the towel over his eyes. He dried his messy bangs, not bothering to look where he was going. He was so used to maneuvering the apartment he could walk on autopilot to reach the fridge, a place he often ventured to.

"And despite what you think, I really _don't _hate drinking chocolate milk. So don't lie to me and tell me it's gone. I can only eat it with waffles, though—" Matt stopped. Wait, where was Mello's sarcastic remark? Why wasn't Matt hearing him say something like "_You can't _eat _chocolate milk, dumbass_"?Because Matt had to counter with something smart like, "_You can eat it if you freeze it in an ice cube tray. Since chocolate milk-flavored ice cubes are very edible, you'd be _eating_ chocolate milk then." _

The redhead was prepared for their familiar banter. The morning didn't seem right without it. Where was he?

And their apartment was hardly ever silent. There was no peace between the sound of exploding bullets, blaring music (whether it be all sorts of rock, techno, rave, or in some cases, hip hop), Mello's constant yelling, the television up loud, Matt blasting the latest YouTube sensation for laughs, their neighbor's banging on the wall to shut them up, the microwave running, or the sound of hobos' celebration when coming across a loaf of stale bread in the dumpster outside.

"Mello?" _My love? _Matt thought, mentally sniggering because if he'd said that out loud, it'd probably _annoy _Mello out of wherever he was hiding.

Lifting one corner of the towel from his eye, Matt peered around cautiously. The kitchen was empty. He took the towel out of his eyes completely. Nope, Mello still wasn't there. This was too weird, it wasn't normal. Matt shivered, a chill racing up his spine. He frowned. The atmosphere had suddenly plunged into an icy temperature. He was freezing.

_Oh wait. Left a window open last night. No wonder I was in such a cuddly mood; I was seeking warmth from Mello. _

Matt padded to the cracked kitchen window, where a draft was coming in. He slammed it shut and turned to trace back to their bedroom to throw a striped shirt and hoodie on. Maybe this morning he'd forgotten to smack Mello with a pillow to wake him up. _Damn bastard could sleep through a fireworks display, a construction site, and a hoard of crying babies all happening at once. _

The door was ajar, which wasn't unusual. "Yo Mels, you awake?" Matt peaked inside. Unmade bed—normal. Random shit like a skateboard without wheels, a stack of manila folders, and Chinese takeout boxes all over the floor—normal. All drawers open and overflowing in their dresser—normal. Posters, scraps of looseleaf, and comic strips haphazardly hanging on the walls—normal. Blankets cast over the windows because they wouldn't be caught dead at Home Depot buying curtains—normal. What was unusual was the lack of a snoring blonde between the sheets of the bed.

Where would Mello go at 9:42 in the morning? He could barely form a coherent thought at this time, much less get up and go somewhere. Had Matt missed something he'd said last night? He did zonk out early, almost after their seeing-who-could-catapult-Cheerios-at-the-other-with-a-homemade-catapult war. Matt wasn't surprised when he found a few honey-flavored O's in the shower; they got everywhere.

Finally, it was time for Matt to shrug and not neglect his videogames any longer. He'd get worried over time. Right now, there was a certain race of barbaric humans to genocide as he played on the Evil Campaign in _The Middle For Middle-Earth. _Hell yeah, it was time to conquer Rohan it all its drunkard horsemen!

Grinning, Matt sat on the top of the couch, then leaned back to fall in the cushions. His shoulder hit something hard when he fell. "Ouch, shit!" After groping around for a minute, Matt found that his PS3 controller was the culprit that caused his injury. He mock-glared at it. "How dare you wound me, Mr. Controller. I thought he had some good times, but I was mistaken…" He pretended to sob dramatically. "I'll…I'll never set you on vibrate again!"

Matt was about to congratulate himself on such being so hysterically witty, but he stopped short. Taped to the PS3 controller was a piece of paper ripped out of the phonebook (one of the only sources of paper in their apartment), and Matt instantly recognized the blocky, all-capital letters in Mello's handwriting.

Matt scanned over the message Mello had written in dark blue Sharpie:

_Ur N idiot so that's y I stole ur g0ggl3s_

_come & find me if u want 2 c them alive_

_xoxo_

_M_

Matt pouted. "Okay, Mels, I'm _so _not cool with initiating a _Lord of the Rings_-like quest for you. Do you know how long that would take? I don't even have a cool weapon or any magic jewelry!" He rubbed his eyes, self-conscious now that he knew his goggles weren't there. "And my navigational skills suck_. _I get lost in _here _sometimes. Maybe you should just play fair and gimme them for a kiss or a one-pound Belgian chocolate bar."_ Or maybe I could survive without_…No, he couldn't finish the thought. _My eyes feel so exposed…how long can I take that? My goggles are what make me, _me. _They make me awesome. It's not fair being forced to see the world in a different color. I like it orange. _

"Dammit, Mels. This better worth as much as the Starbucks in Gondor." Matt went to get his car keys from the kitchen drawer where the plastic wrap, take-out menus, uncooked macaroni noodles, a Tokio Hotel CD, Sharpies, googly-eyed stickers, and paper clips were kept. Amid the clutter of random crap, he couldn't find them. He checked all the places his keys could be—between the couch cushions, his last pair of worn pants, in an empty bowl in one of the cabinets, the top shelf of the refrigerator, the bottom of their rooster-shaped umbrella holder. Not to be found anywhere. Then it donned on Matt.

Not only was Mello holding his goggles for some sort of ransom, but the damn bastard had taken his car, too.

**A/N – Can you believe there's a ploy inside of a ploy now? It's wild. And again, Sweet Discord rocks C: **_**Doneiloveyouadieu**_**, Meohy :3 **


	17. Ransom Part II: Operation Locate Mello

**Ransom Part II**: **Operation Locate a Soon-to-Be Loveless Blonde**

Matt, armed with a gallon of chocolate milk and a bag of Hershey's kisses, searched the sunny streets of Los Angeles for his beloved. Wait, scratch that. Mello wasn't that much of Matt's beloved anymore since the hell-razing blonde had, well, razed some hell for Matt. Not only had he stolen the badass hacker's extremely _badass _goggles, he'd jetted away with his badass red Camaro. And Matt was about to go all kickass whoppin' on Mello's ass because _no one_ messed with Matt's badassary. Hot damn, that was for sure.

The chocolate milk sloshed around in the quarter-filed quart whenever Matt's arm swung as he walked. When no one was looking, he dumped some on the sidewalk, then sprinkled a few Hershey's kisses in the chocolate puddle by way of leaving a breadcrumb trail for Mello. He figured the chocolate would lead the chocoholic to him. Surprisingly, some people that saw him do it gave him approving glances. Others demanded what he was doing, calling out to him like, "Yo crazy, what'chu doin' thar?"

"What?" Matt snapped, uncovered eyes narrowing defensively. "It's for my missing boyfriend! He's obsessed with chocolate, okay?"

_People are weird_, the redhead concluded as he dropped another handful of Hershey's kisses on the ground. He doused the sidewalk-sodden candy with some chocolate milk and went on his way.

Daylight was burning fast by the time Matt grew tired and plopped down on a stone bench, momentarily defeated. Besides, he'd never exercised so long in his life. His supply was dwindling, so after staring at his shadow on the sidewalk sullenly, he decided to switch tactics. He found the nearest hobo and traded them the rest of his chocolate for a hunk of cardboard. With the ever-present Sharpie in his pocket, he scratched "LOOKING FOR LEATHER-WEARING BLONDE, WHO WILL MOSTLY BE SPOTTED ON A STREET CORNER. RIDE PLEASE?" in big green letters on it. Next to the words, Matt sketched a picture of Mello with the drawing abilities that Mello like to pretend he didn't have. He then finished off the sign by putting a couple hearts around the letters for people who would help a hopeless sap.

Matt stood ramrod straight and held the sign against his chest, hoping he wouldn't attract unwanted attention on the sun-drenched street corner. He parked himself next to a toothless man with a sign that read, "Scurvy exists."

While he was waiting for a kind Los Angelian soul to give him a ride, he wondered if Mello had gotten the voicemail he'd sent him. The recording replayed in his mind, "_Hey Mels, don't panic. The house isn't on fire. I'm not in any danger or anything either. Calling you 'cause I wanted to know when you're comin' home. Guess the day doesn't start without you for me 'cause I'm just lazin' 'round the apartment waitin' for you to come home. So when is that, exactly? Not that I'm freaking out or anything, I'm cool. I'm just wondering. Okay. Call me…or better yet, walk through the damn door without slamming it because if it falls off the hinges one more time, I'm making you pay for it. And that annoys the neighbors, so…yeah. Okay. Hanging up now. It's not lonely here. I'm fine. Come home soon. Or…not. Whatever. Okay, well. I've wasted enough battery now. Bye._"

As Matt's shadow stretched over the searing pavement of the street, he began to think he'd never get help. The toothless man had found old, gooey dentures in a dumpster an hour ago and skipped off gleefully, so why couldn't Matt find Mello? He'd checked all the places he'd be: their apartment, the local drug store, alleyways, a few bars, the laundry mat, under the bed, GameStop (okay, maybe that was a detour…), among hobos, the Chinese restaurant down the street…where else would Mello hide? Could he fly out to Hershey, Pennsylvania? Or where else would Mello take his goggles and hold them hostage? For Eyes, maybe?

And he'd been on the streets for hours. His phone hadn't rung since he left their apartment.

_Where there hell are you, Mello? This is really pissing me off. There's this ache in my gut and I know it's because I'm missing your stupid ass-face so show your fucking ass-face or else..._

"This day was as useless as trying to beat the Impossible Quiz." Matt hung his head and headed back to their house.

Matt had gotten back to the street where their apartment was located, scheming about the destruction of Rohan, when something orange in his peripheral vision caught his eye.

_Mello, my love! _Was his first thought. This was followed by the ever-tactful thought-exclamation of, _what the fuck?_

Matt had found Mello, all right. Down the street. Propped up in a massage chair. In a beauty salon. (Cue some Celine Dion, please. Or maybe Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" would be more appropriate.) Why the hell would Mello be in a beauty salon? It's the single, most uncharacteristic place for him to be. A freaking salon! Home to celebrity gossip magazines, god-awful music, vibrant, girly nail polish colors, and gabbing over America's Next Top Model! Matt almost retched. _Holy crap! Please tell me it isn't true! Has the world been overrun by female drones? _

"_Mello_!" Matt exclaimed haltingly, forgetting that on the street he'd wanted to throw himself into the blonde's leather-clad arms and sob how much he missed him. Matt rushed into the salon, marching disbelievingly up to Mello. He surveyed the pastel walls and shiny manicure/pedicure equipment, horrified. "Why the hell are you—well, we now—in here?"

"Look who decided to show up." Mello came over to him, stopped an inch away, and kissed him smack on the mouth. "I got tired of waiting all day." He hit Matt's chest with a weak backhand. "Asshole. You could've come sooner."

A few women around them hummed agreements to Mello's exclamation, as if he belonged under the hair blow-dryers beside them. Which creeped Matt out more than he'd ever wanted. _What is going on? Why the hell is Mello acting so weird? He's _NEVER _like this in public, all touchy-feeling and pro-girlpower. Have I passed out in a gutter from too much sun? Dear Zelda, please let this be a wacko nightmare…_

"I would've…only you stole my car." Matt rolled up a magazine from the nearby rack and smacked Mello with it. "You crazy bastard! How long have you been inhaling nail polish remover?"

The blonde coiled an arm around Matt's waist and leaned close to whisper, "The manicure's free if I keep acting 'flamboyantly' gay. Free stuff is always great. So roll with it, bitch." Mello pulled back just enough to kiss Matt's jaw.

"Okay, fine. I'm over it." Matt rolled his eyes. He'd never admit it, but he secretly liked the extra affection. "Missed you too, darling." Matt, playing along, pulled Mello's hands from his sides to examine his boyfriend's black-painted nails. He snorted. "Well, look at that. You've never been prettier."

"You've got something on your hands." Mello commented as a response, eyeing Matt's fingers. His eyes flicked upwards. "Why do you have chocolate on your hands?"

It didn't seem like Mello was interested in an answer, though. While Matt opened his mouth to talk, Mello took his hands and licked the chocolate smears off like hand-washing was never invented. He also seemed oblivious to the fact that they were in a public place where a dozen women getting their hair, nails, or waxing done gaped at them with shocked or shiny eyes.

"Wow," Matt remarked dryly when Mello snuggled up close under his arm. "Sinks will go extinct if you keep doing that."

"Well, it's about time." Mello shrugged. "Sinks are useless."

_That's something I'd say. _Matt arched a skeptical, though amused, eyebrow. "Do explain." He paused. "Oh, and while you're at it, you could also explain why you stole my goggles as you walk me to my car…"

As if it just occurred to him, Mello asked, "Oh yeah, I suppose you'll be wanting your goggles back about now…"

His nonchalance irritated Matt. "Hell yeah I want them back!" Said goggleless redhead snapped. "Take them off right now and hand them over!"

"Fine, but it'll cost ya…"


	18. Ransom Part III: Osculation

**Ransom**** Part III: Osculation**

Mello adjusted the orange plastic over his eyes, meeting the redhead's unguarded eyes with this best innocent expression he could muster. They were standing in the middle of a salon, among a hoard of woman excited for more boyfriend-y actions, where Matt had found Mello. The goggles were on Mello's face, the ones that he'd held for ransom so Matt would feel pressured into professing his love.

Matt shifted his weight. "Really, Mels. I don't want to ask for them again. Hand them over and let's just get this over with, all right?"

A blond head shook. "No can do. I personally think I look pretty fabulous in these." He turned to the women around them. "Am I right, ladies?"

Matt ignored the approval that the women showered Mello with. He caught his boyfriend's arm and whirled him around. "Come on." A pout. "No more games, just give them to me."

Mello shook his head, smiling deviously. He looked pointedly at Matt and wordlessly tapped his own cheek, signaling that he wanted a kiss there.

At first Matt didn't get the hint, then he realized this was all for Mello's free manicure. Of course they'd have to publicly act gay for the sake of black nail polish. Females and their fetish with seeing man on man action, ugh! Matt seriously didn't understand girls, or Mello sometimes, for that matter…but two could play this game. Matt was tried of being taken advantage of. He smirked, thoughts formulating a defiant plan. Also without utterance, Matt touched his lips to tips of his three longest fingers, then patted Mello's cheek with them.

"Doesn't count." The chocoholic immediately said.

"Damn you!" Matt seized Mello's head, jerked it towards him, and gave his snarky bastard of a boyfriend a freaking peck on the cheek. "You're going to beg for mercy later," he grumbled under his breath, ignoring the collective swoon from the watching women.

"Now here." Mello instructed, tapping the other cheek. His expression was smug, finding a purely evil delight in torturing Matt.

Matt huffed impatiently. "You've got to be kidding me…" He ducked his head to kiss Mello's other cheek. "Better be worth it…"

Mello's pointer finger directed Matt to his forehead next. Matt sighed and, placing both heads on the sides of the Mello's face, turned it down so he could gently place a kiss on his forehead.

A woman squealed, "_Aw, isn't that soooo sweet_?"

This was followed by: "_Oh my gosh, yay!_ _They are like the cutest couple everrr~_!"

And then: "_There's some live yaoi for ya, bitches_! _Live it and love it!"_

"Doesn't count." Mello said again.

"You're making up the rules as we go!" The gamer shouted, exasperated. This was worse than getting a persistent computer virus, or the game being shut out without a save file!

"Really, Matt? Did you expect anything different? More fair? Anything but tactless?" Mello smirked. "Come on, you know me better than that."

Matt snorted. "Guess not." He pulled Mello close, and said as their mouths were tantalizingly close, "Giving the ladies a show?"

"Fuck no. That other shit was the show, this is for real."

Matt's response, _Gee, I'm almost touched, _was lost as Mello's lips smashed against his. The blonde fisted some of his hair and kept up a rough, dominating nature throughout the kiss. Matt kept Mello against him, holding his sides and returned his passion with matched fervor of his own.

When he cut back, the room was spinning. "Now can you tell me why you stole my goggles?" Matt blindly asked. The sound of cheering seemed fair off, and he couldn't really focus on anything but Mello in his arms. He did know for sure that his cheeks were flushed and burning.

Smirking, Mello tugged him towards the door. "Eh, I'm more interested in the story behind those chocolate stains. Why were they on your hands?" Mello held the smudged glass door open for Matt, and walked behind him as he emerged on the street. Before the door closed, he looked back and winked at the woman in the salon behind the cash register. The fake smile plastered on his face dropped as he turned back to Matt. Now his mouth was tugged into a genuinely victorious grin. "We'll get to the goggles later."

Matt exhaled a sigh of relief as they left the salon. Once they had been rid of that traumatizing place, he figured Mello would go back to acting normal. "I used chocolate milk and a bag of Hershey's kisses to find you." Matt motioned to the sidewalk as they walked with a sense of pride. "Left them on the street like a breadcrumb trail for you to follow in case you were near."

"I'm sure all dogs, children, and hobos were thrilled at your feeding them," Mello said sardonically. "As thought_less _as it was, don't do it again. I don't want police knocking on our door." He was matter-of-fact as he responded. "'Cause I'm pretty sure what you did was illegal."

Imaging squad of policemen to be waiting at home to detain them, Matt exclaimed, "But you'd look so cool on a WANTED poster!"

"Yeah. Right. If we ever decide to create a family album, I'll be sure to take a mug shot to show our grandchildren. An intense, stone-cold, straight-up-killer-that-will-jack-you-and-your-grandmother's-mother-up mug shot for you. Just for you."

Matt laughed, following Mello as he cut into an alleyway. "Naw, you'd be smirking in your mug shot. Maybe making some sort of gangster peace sign, too."

"Pssh. 'Cause I'm hood rich like that." Mello shook his head amusedly. "And in your mug shot, you'd be grinning with your thumbs up, right?" The chocoholic held up his hands like the image seemed so real it was tangible. "Cheezin' for the camera as you're about to be put behind bars. Yeah, that sounds like something you'd do."

Matt grinned, jamming his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. For sure." He looked at Mello, who was still wearing his goggles. "At least I found you and my goggles now. I feel so weird not wearing them. You know, I don't think I've ever been photographed without them…But I _still_ can't believe I found you in a freaking _salon_." The gamer shook his head. "It's just a place that's _so you_. It was so glaringly obvious that I didn't catch it."

Mello rolled his eyes. "Fooled you, at least."

"That's not actually an accomplishment, you know." Matt pointed out. "Besting me is as easy as playing Wii with your eyes closed. Anyone can do it."

"No, I bet you're the only person in the world that does that." Mello kept up pace with Matt while walking backwards. "But you're not stupid, just clueless as shit."

"I'm pretty sure shit has a clue." The redhead countered sarcastically, "Why else would it get on the bottom of your shoe when you don't want it to?"

"You're hopeless _and _clueless." Mello rolled his eyes just as Matt shot him a mock-pout. "Makes you cute, though," the blonde amended.

"What if I'm not either? I'm feelin' peachy, actually." Matt pulled a hand out of his pocket to run it along the dirty brick walls. "Still haven't answered my question, though. What prompted you to steal my goggles?"

"I got you out of the house." Mello spread his arms out wide, as if this were a revelation. "It was the only way for you to join the real world. Sorry, babe. Although you're a shinning knight in the virtual _and_ real world, you've got to come join us simple-folk _sometimes_."

The reclusive hacker was skeptical. "That's not all, is it? There's more to what you're saying, I know it."

Mello shrugged, the movement matching the nonchalant tone of his voice as he said, "I wanted you to tell me that you loved me. Nothin' else really. I thought that maybe without the damn goggles, you'd be able to finally _see _that. Plus, I got a free manicure. Bitchin', right?"

**A/N- As much as I wanted to write that ****last kiss like porn, I'll have you know that I restrained myself. Just sayin' ;-)**

**FORGIVE ME FOR POSTING WITHOUT RESPONDING TO YOUR REVIEWS! I was showered with so much laughs, love, and support – thank you SO MUCH! :) Today is my birthday, so I'm pretty worn down from partying and being wild (hee.) I'll try to respond as soon as possible! I love you guys! So much! C:**

_**Doneiloveyouadieu**_**, Meohy :3 **


	19. Ransom Part IV: Let's Play A Love Game

**Ransom Part IV: ****Let's Play a Love Game**

"I fucking love you," Matt said, impatiently stomping his foot, in the same tone one would say, 'My day has been _wonderful_, thanks for asking. Are you paid to bullshit at me? Um, no. Do your damn job. Cut the shit and take my fucking order.' He shifted from one foot to another impatiently. "There, I said it. Aren't you satisfied now? Can this all be over now?"

They had been back from the salon for a few hours, and in that time, Mello had dangled Matt's goggles in his face without actually handing them over. Needless to say, Matt was losing his patience. Faster than his under-thirty-seconds record in MarioKart.

When he'd stepped outside to have a smoke, Mello had followed him into the alley. He had been standing a little ways away when he'd suddenly said, "…Tell me you love me and you'll get your goggles back."

There was a few moment's paused, which followed by Matt's "I fucking love you."

And Mello responded with: "Nope." He cracked a piece of his chocolate bar, smiling darkly. "That was more than three words." Pushing off the brick wall with his ball of his foot, he closed the distance between them, a smirk pulling up a corner of his mouth. Mello motioned to Matt's expression. "Sarcasm works for you. Incredibly sexy."

"When am I not sexy to you?" Matt flashed Mello a cocky grin, jumping at the opportunity to exude confidence. "Besides, I bet you're missing my goggles right now," he coiled and arm around the blonde's slender waist, pressing their bodies together. "'Cause they complete the look that you're so crazy about."

"Think twice." Mello stroked his cheek with long, cold fingers. His face was inches away when he truthfully said, "Without the orange plastic to cover your eyes up, there's this vulnerability in your eyes. It's…different. You don't normally see it because you hide your eyes. Maybe I'm more crazy about that."

Matt tugged on Mello's leather jacket sleeve to pull his hand away. "Maybe you're just crazy in general."

"Huh, you're blushing." There was s smug, knowing glint to Mello's cobalt eyes as he said it. "How cute."

Matt looked away, squinting his eyes. The cigarette he had between his scissor-shaped fingers touched his lips. An inhale pulled the toxin into his mouth, satisfying his addiction in a fleeting moment. He exhaled a cloud of smoke angled away from the chocoholic still held loosely in his other arm. "You're hallucinating," he said dismissively.

"Hmm." Mello took the cigarette from Matt's hand, and Matt watched as the former mafia boss placed it between his lips. Their gazes locked, and Mello slyly blew smoke into Matt's face. "Am I?" He asked, putting the cigarette out. He didn't look back at Matt's expression as he took to climbing up the ladder on the fire escape.

"Yeah…you've been dreaming this whole thing up. Perception vs. reality." Matt said, naming the analytical device used when examining complex motifs in literature. He followed Mello up to their apartment via fire escape. "S'all in your head."

Mello smiled darkly. "Probably."

Matt ducked through the window into their apartment. "Cool, now that we've established that you're psycho, can I have my goggles back?"

"Ditch the surly attitude." Mello disappeared into their room. "What's the big rush?"

Matt hung back by the door, folding his arms. "I've done everything else you've asked: I've sabotaged the neighbors, given you a bubble bath, slung words along with Katy Perry and Ludacris while doing the Bernie, and I've told you that I loved you."

"Well, now I want you to give me a piggy back ride to the nearest Trader Joe's to pick up a cartful of one-pound Belgian chocolate bars…"

Matt rolled his eyes. "'Kay, fine. That's no so bad."

Mello's cerulean eyes glinted as he held up a hanger coated with plastic. "…While wearing this costume."

The redhead did a double-take. "There's no way I'm dressing like that, I'll look like Lady GaGa's bitch!" Matt fell to his knees, crying out in anguish. "Please don't make me do this! Anything but this!"

"Get off the floor and quit sobbing, you drama queen." Mello kicked him. "Up!"

Matt leeched onto Mello's leg, looking up at him pleadingly, earnestly. "You're the most amazingly smart person in the world and you're sexiest man I have ever had the privilege of knowing! I swear if we had children I would want them to be clones of you because they'd be so perfect! I can't see myself ever living without you, you flawless individual, you! I'm just mystically and madly in love with you that I can't stand it! So if you love me back, you won't make me do this _please please please please please_!"

"Stand up or I'll force you into it." Mello growled.

"Actually," Matt switched his position so he was lounged on the floor in front of him. "I kind of like that option."

**A/N- This is the end of Ransom, ****though not the end of TMYML! It's been fantastic, my dears! (*Although this is the end of Ransom, I feel like someone's going to start a petition to keep it going…*)**

**Real quick, though. I just want to give a brief ****backstory to Part III's title. Just to show you that I'm such a dork :P 'Osculation' is a math-term you use when lines are **_**really close**_** but aren't touching on a graph. Ironically, the true definition of the word means to be really close (as in kissing). In the last chapter, I meant it literally and figuratively. Obviously, Matt and Mello kissed (and we all **_**loved**_** it), but Mello also got **_**really close **_**to winning the ploy. Little lesson there for you, lovelies ;-) **

_**Doneiloveyouadieu**_**, Meohy :3 **


	20. Taking Love Advice From Near

**Taking Love Advice From Near**

"_Hey, snowflake." He'd say, his tone light and sarcastic—sounding a lot like his was forcing a smile. "Haven't heard from you a while. Miss me? I know you did. Hey, what's it like in Toyland? Robbed a Toy's R Us lately?" _

_And Near, figuring he would counter Mello with blatant truth, would say something like: "Why would I steal? Isn't that your job?" _

"_Oh, ha-ha," He'd respond, monetarily taken aback at Near's unknowingly sarcastic jab it him. "You're a comedian now?" _

_Near would be short, already calculating the end result of this conversation: non-beneficial to him. "I'm hanging up, Mello." _

"_Aww, what? Did I catch you in the middle of naptime?" He would continue to act like this was a joke because that would mask how weak and vulnerable he felt. _

"_Yes. I don't have time to waste; surly you know that." Near would deadpan. _

"_Get off your high horse—" He'd sneer confidently, "—or, in your case—_rocking_ horse and hear me out. You've got to a favor to do me." _

That was the plan. Mello had to make an ally in this failing endeavor. Running his hands over his face, he decided he had nothing to lose. He snatched the phone from the end table beside him and dialed. _No regrets_, he promised himself.

"Mello." Came the toneless answer.

_How predictable. _

"This conversation is overdue. You're late, but I expected as much."

"Near?" Mello said, "What—expecting me?—I don't get it—"

"You don't? I thought it would be clear, since your intelligence, although below mine, is—"

Mello bristled. "Don't condescend me or I'll hang up," he snapped.

"If you're going to hang up, then do it. But the information I have for you is important. For you, at least."

"What information?"

"Think of your current predicament as a case I've taken on—"

"Don't use those words to mask the fact that you're just screwing with me right now."

"That seems hypocritical to say, Mello." Near paused. "I'll clarify for you, but just this once. By 'your correct predicament', I mean 'your ploy to trick Matt into confessing his love for you.'"

Shame burned on Mello's cheeks. The way Near said it with no emotion confirmed how stupid the ploy had been all along. The shame then darkened into searing anger. _What the fuck! How the fuck did Near know about the ploy? Where the fuck was this coming from?_

"It's clear that he's irreversibility in love with you," Near said. "Maybe he can't express it with words; apparently, you can't either. Are you not perceptive enough to see it?"

Mello was silent, still—his tempter cut short. How was it that Near was the only person that possessed the power to do that?

Near paused again, but Mello was too frozen to say anything. Near continued after a moment, "Other than myself, Matt is the only person that has been remotely consistent in your life. He accepts every aspect of your personality without question. He genuinely cares for you. All of this you know already…or do you? I don't understand you, Mello. What has been your motive? Why hasn't this ended yet?"

"Maybe I don't know what I want anymore." Mello answered gruffly. "Maybe this is getting too complicated and I can't figure it out."

"Then your relationship with Matt will become unsalvageable." Near stated apathetically.

This caused Mello to blink and hold back for a while. Near was right. He pinched the bridge of his nose to block the dull pain of a migraine coming on. _Of course Near is right. Has there ever been a time that he's wrong?_ That somehow made it harder to accept.

With all this information, Mello had to wander how the hell Near was coming up with it. But Near had enough foresight to answer that question without him voicing it, for he said, "When I learned about your game of blackmailing Matt, I became interested with the situation. While you both had vacated your apartment, I ordered a team of specialists to wire your apartment with cameras and audio feeds. I have been monitoring the situation with a psychologist that is dedicated to analyzing romantic dispositions."

The thought of Near broadcasting his love life to a fucking shrink without him knowing was enough to make Mello painfully grind his teeth together. With a heavy tone of vehemence, he growled, "_For the love of fucking Christ, Near_—" He couldn't even finish the thought, he was so enraged; as if anything he said to Near would be enough to abate his rage. Why did seem that everything he'd done had blown up in his face?

"_Mello._" Near said in a sharp tone, one Mello hadn't known he'd had. It made the former mafia boss's blood run cold, briefly. In a moment of confusion, Mello wondered how Near had known that he'd been ready to hang up. Then he remembered that he was probably been watching him as they spoke through the lens of a hidden camera.

Disguising his voice in its unwavering monotone, Near added quietly, "He loves you, Mello. More than you know."

Then the sound of his voice was shut off completely. Mello had had enough.

**A/N- Who do you think would be more fun to prank call, Near or Matt? I'm just wondering because this chapter was all about talking on the phone. See, I'm thinkin' if you prank called both, it'd end up like this: Near wouldn't get it and that'd be hilarious, and Matt would probably just start a conversation with you. **

**I don't have an answer—I'd pounce at the chance to call either one! And, oh sweet lime fluff, CALLING MELLO…now **_**that**_** would make my life! C: **

_**Doneiloveyouadieu**_**, Meohy :3 **


	21. Love Advice From Near Again?

**Taking Love Advice from Near (…Again?)**

"There was a traffic jam." Near announced the second Mello opened the door for him. "That's why I'm late. I told Gevanni not to find a parking space because we're going to keep this short."

"Oh yeah," Mello gestured for Near to come inside. "How's that working out for you? You've been with him for…what it is? Three weeks now?"

"I'm here to talk about yourrelationships. Mainly the miscommunication that's been happening between you and Matt for…what is it? Three months now?"

Mello detected the slight hint of sarcasm in Near's voice. "Very funny, Near."

"Why is anything that Gevanni and I do of any concern to you anyway?"

"It's nothing. Just…Matt and I have a bet."

Near ignored him, despite the fact that _he_ had asked the question that prompted Mello's answer. "Why couldn't we do this over the phone? A visit like this is unnecessary."

"I hung up too soon last time," Mello acquiesced. "I didn't want that to happen again."

"So you're acknowledging that you need my help?"

Mello gritted his teeth. "Don't make this harder than this already is."

"You said you wanted the report from the psychologist." Near, getting straight to business, handed the aforementioned document to Mello. "Here it is. In summary, the main thing the psychologist advises is that you need to communicate with him. Be honest and direct with him, she says, because she can see that your feelings for him are deep and genuine."

"Can you?" Mello asked. "See that I care about him too, I mean?"

"Yes." Near admitted, and Mello recognized that this was big of him. "For the record," Near held Mello's gaze unflinchingly. "I'm doing this for Matt. Not you."

Mello looked away. "I know."

"Is this all you needed me for?" Near motioned to the document Mello was holding.

"Yeah." Mello held the door open for Near. "You know the second you walk out of here, I'm going back to hating you." Mello said lightly. "Whatever truce we had for this is ending now."

"I'm fully aware, Mello."

"Just makin' sure."

"We shouldn't have another reason to call another truce." Mello knew what Near meant. He was saying he shouldn't have to interfere with Matt and Mello's relationship again because he wanted to see it saved.

"No. This won't happen again."

"And, Mello…" Near stopped before he reached the steps.

Mello met his gaze.

"Don't break his heart. Because if you do—"

"You'll release holy hell on me?"

"That and more."

Near turned to go.

"Say 'hi' to Gevanni for me," Mello called.

"You know I won't do that." Near said back.

"Will you take out your security cameras anytime soon?"

"Not until I have to."

Mello paused. "Near…"

But he was already out of earshot.

_I'd say 'thank you,' but that'd go to your head._

_Plus, you already know._

Mello rolled his eyes, almost amusedly, and shut the door.

**A/N- I'm baaaaack. :3 I know, I missed you guys too. Seriously, a whole freakin' lot. But now that we're back together, we can celebrate me continuing this story (this calls for cake, confetti, and a brontosaurus jumpy tent!) :D**

**And a special thank-you to Polishag, who is not only perfect but double perfect :D, for bringing me out of the cave I had retreated to when my life was swallowed up by school and writer's block so I could continue this story. Thank you for reading and praising this and… the next chapter :o!**

**doneiloveyouadieu,**

**Meohy :3 **

**P.S. Can you believe it's been a year? Isn't that crazy? I promise I won't leave you for that long again :P  
**


	22. Stupid

**Stupid**

"You know, Mels, there aren't many chances where I get to tell you that…"

Mello braced himself.

"…you're being stupid."

Damn. False alarm.

Matt continued, "Because in this case, you're thinking too much and that's making you stupid."

Mello was confused. "Thinking too much makes me stupid?"

"Oh, the stupidest of the stupidest."

"Matt, spell stupidest."

"S-T-U-P-I-D-I-S-T." Matt let out an exasperated sigh. "There. Would you let me finish?"

Mello suppressed a smile. "Yeah. Sorry."

"When you start thinking too much, you start second-guessing everything anyone says or does. Then you have all these doubts and things get super messed up."

"Are things super messed up?"

"No," Matt said. "That's the problem. You think they are."

Mello lowered his gaze.

"Mello." Matt took Mello's chin gently and forced the other man to look into his eyes. "How long is it going to take you to realize that I'm in this thing until the end?"

"Listen to this closely, second greatest detective in the world," Matt started, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You and me…we're gonna get old together. You're going to loose all your hair" – Matt laughed when a protective hand shot into Mello's hair – "and I'm going to loose all my teeth. We're still going to be living in this shithole apartment even when we're like 87 years old" – he gestured to the room around them – "And we'll have to bug the landlord to install ramps for our wheel chairs. Everyday we'll watch shit like The Price is Right, People's Court, and Days of Our Lives" – Mello's eyes widened in horror – "You'll have lost your hearing and me my eyesight. So we'll be parked in front of the damn 4D television, senile and drooling all over ourselves. You'll be yelling at me to turn the damn volume up and I'll be yelling at you that I can't read the damn LCD screen on the remote and you'll be yelling at me" – Matt impersonated a senile Mello – "'remember when it had one button for one function, instead of screens that redirect you to other screens?' And I'll be yelling at you that you're talking too much during the damn show that I'm trying to watch."

Mello's expression softened. "You picture us old and crotchety?"

"Of course I do. And we're going to grow old and crotchety together as long as you stop being so stupid_…_"

Mello brandished a couch pillow. "There you go, calling me stupid again…"

"Hey!" Matt laughed, trying to fend off Mello's assault. "And everyone thinks you're the smart one!"

Mello hit him with the pillow a few more times. "Says the one who can't spell _stupidest_!"

"Wait, what?" Matt paused. "I spelled that wrong?"

Mello laughed. "You spelled it with an i at the end instead of an e."

"What do you think they have spell check for?" Matt retorted, holding Mello off long enough to grab a pillow of his own to whack Mello with. "And besides, spelling doesn't make you smart!"

"You're right," Mello took a whack in the face. "It makes you literate."

Somehow amidst their pillow fight, Mello found himself tangled up with Matt on the couch. Matt lay underneath him and Mello had gotten his knees on either side of Matt's rib cage, pining him to the spot so he was an easier target. Matt braced Mello's arms from coming down again with another fell swoop of pillow. As Matt got another pillow to the head, he squirmed a little and used his forearms as shields for his face. "Not the face!" Matt exclaimed. "We both like it too much!"

Mello made a move to hit him again. "It'll just have to be a casualty of war!"

"_Noooo!_" Matt dodged another pillow aimed at his face.

"Sacrifices have to be made, Matt."

"Never!" Matt retaliated with a blow to Mello's shoulder.

It was after a few close calls with forbidden face-shots that Mello realized this was a perfect time to ask Matt something he'd been wondering for a little while now.

"Matt," Mello dropped his pillow. Matt, in turn, relinquished his weapon. A cocky smiled adorned his face when he realized the sensual position they were in. "I have something very serious to ask you."

The whole pillow fight forgotten, Matt locked his arms around Mello's neck. "Yes, Mello?"

"Would you still love me if…"

Matt looked up at him expectantly.

"If I had no hair and hearing and slobbered all over myself?"

"Yes. Of course I would." Matt laughed. "And what about you? Could you bring yourself to look at me after I've lost all my teeth and have squinty eyes?"

"You've already got squinty eyes from playing too many video games in the dark." Mello smirked. "Somehow I manage."

"Bastard," Matt laughed.

"You really want to grow old with me?" Mello asked. "Stupidity and all?"

Matt looked at him like he was utterly devoid of intelligence. "_Duh_."

**A/N- Aha. The thought of Mello and Matt as crotchety old men makes me laugh C: **

**Also I wanted to the excuse to say 'crotchety.' MULTIPLE times. **


End file.
